A Good Kind of Awkward
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: Oneshot episode tag for Devil's Triangle. It explores the idea of what might have happened had Tim's father been in the VIP box. Written for the NFA Fathers and Sons and Episode Tag challenges.


**A/N: **This is a oneshot written for the NFA Fathers & Sons and Episode Tag challenges. It features spoilers for the season 9 episodes _Penelope's Papers_ and _Devil's Triangle._ It takes place after the events of _Devil's Triangle_ and are the result of a discussion about what would have happened if Tim's father had been in that VIP box.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own NCIS and I'm not making money off it. The two recognizable lines of dialogue are the property of the NCIS franchise as are the characters.

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><p><strong>A Good Kind of Awkward<br>**by Enthusiastic Fish

"_McGee. VIP list. Who's at the game today?"_

That was the simplest question. Tim had been able to pull it up in seconds.

"Lots of bigwigs."

What an understatement. Top military people from all branches.

Top military.

Tim hoped he hadn't let Tony see it, but his heart had suddenly plummeted to his shoes as he read the list. Not because of all the important people who could be killed.

...just because of one. One name.

Admiral McGee.

He was at the bottom of the list. Tim almost hadn't noticed in the press of time to figure out who and where. ...but the name had caught his eye just before he and Tony had started running.

Admiral McGee.

Father of NCIS Special Agent Timothy McGee.

He was in the top box. He was currently under threat. He could have been killed.

When he and Tony reached the roof, he wanted to run over to the contraption holding the virus and pull it away from the vent...just in case.

Just in case it still posed any danger to Admiral McGee.

But he didn't. He kept his mouth shut and did his job like always. Things were cleaned up. People saved. The investigation into who ordered the assassinations had to be begun. Tim wasn't given a chance to think about it much at the time. ...only now.

Admiral McGee never even knew his son had been afraid for his life...and Tim had no intention of telling him.

Still...

Once the day was over, Gibbs went off to do whatever he had to do. Diane and her husband went off to their lives. Fornell went back to the FBI. Everyone else had things to do. Tim pretended he did, too. He had a celebratory drink with the others and then slipped away.

To think.

To decompress.

...to freak out in his own way about what could have happened today, about what had _almost_ happened today.

Admiral McGee, a big important man. Tough on his kids, hard to get close to maybe, but still...

_My father._

Did anything else really even matter?

"Your glass is empty. You want another one?"

Tim nodded without raising his head. He hadn't had too much to drink yet. Nothing big. This was just one of those times when he really wished that there was a way to stop thinking. Tim thought too much about too many things...all at once. He knew that...but really, what else could he do? The rift between him and his father was too newly-mended to bear the realization that Admiral McGee owed his life, at least in part, to Agent McGee.

Best to forget it.

The bartender handed him another drink.

"What's this one?" he asked.

"A Rusty Nail. Ever had it?"

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Nope."

"Not bad, if I do say so myself."

Tim smiled and lifted his head long enough to toast the bartender before taking a sip.

"Well?"

"Not bad," Tim agreed.

The bartender had started him with a White Russian when he'd asked to be surprised...the only requirement being that it wasn't served in some frou-frou glass with an umbrella. The bar wasn't busy; so there was time.

Tim took another sip and sighed. He'd have to stop soon enough. He wasn't planning on drinking himself to death...and it _was_ a nice distraction to try new drinks, even if he wasn't normally a hard drinker.

...and he wondered where the name had come from.

...and why the lemon twist?

He toasted the empty air.

_To Admiral McGee who gets to live to see another day._

That was a good thing. Definitely.

"McGee! You're drinking without me?"

Tim almost rolled his eyes.

"I had a drink with you, Tony. Remember?"

"Yeah. Then, you blew us off and went home...or so we thought."

"Your mistake. I never said where I was going."

Tony sat down.

"What do you have there?"

"A Rusty Nail."

Tony laughed. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Trying something new. What do you want?"

"Well, I think I'll have a Rusty Nail. Bartender?" Tony asked with a grin.

Tim looked at him and then back at his glass. This was not his choice of company right now. He'd been enjoying the solitude.

The bartender served Tony...and might have smiled a bit before he went on with his business.

"What's up, McGee?"

"Nothing. Just unwinding."

Tony took a drink and then looked at Tim.

"So...it has nothing to do with the fact that your dad was at the game today?"

Tim stiffened a little bit, but didn't reply.

"I saw the list. Why didn't you say anything?"

"What was there to say? Nothing happened to him. He's fine. He doesn't even know I was there."

"Yeah. Why not?"

"Dad doesn't need to know, and neither did anyone else."

"Hey, Probie, what's going on?"

"I just didn't want anyone to know."

"Why not?"

"Because...then, Abby would want to comfort me...and I don't want to be comforted because..."

"Because?"

"Because...the best thing for everyone is to forget it and move on."

"That's what you're doing?"

"Yep. I'm relaxing tonight so that I can be fine later." Tim lifted the glass again, but Tony pushed it down to the bar.

Tim sighed quickly...and nodded.

"My dad almost died today. Growing up, we all thought that if he died it would be at sea...since that what he loved so much. I can't even fathom the idea of Dad dying and not being able to fight against it. That's what he does. He fights back. ...but today...his name was on that list. He would have died like everyone else in that room."

Tony squeezed Tim's shoulder which only made him feel more like freaking out than he had before.

"Tony..."

"What?"

"Stop being so nice to me."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to..." Tim wasn't going to say what he was likely to do.

"Well, I think you'd better stop drinking then."

"I don't know. Maybe a couple more."

"Ah, see, Probie, _that_ tells me that you need to stop now. If you don't have a limit in mind, you're liable to forget about a limit and drink yourself under the table. Now, while that would be heartily entertaining for _me_, in light of the situation, I'll save you from yourself by saying that this is the last round."

"Tony, you don't have to play nursemaid and take care of me. I'm a big boy, and I'll be just fine."

"Good. Be just fine somewhere other than a bar."

Tim took one last drink, draining the Rusty Nail. Then, he stared up at the ceiling.

"I never expected to see his name right there. Never expected to have to save my dad. He'd hate knowing what happened."

"I think he'd hate being dead more."

"Yeah...maybe."

"Come on, McGee. Night's over."

"Yeah. I know. I was just hoping to relax."

"Well, this isn't really the best way to do it. Take it from someone who knows. Drinking almost never makes things better."

Tim smiled. "All right."

He stood up and paid the bartender. He could feel the slightly giddy sensation that told him he'd been flirting with his limits already. Tony got up and helping him back to his apartment, even though Tim was quite certain he could have made it on his own. When he stepped through the door, he thought again about how crazy and surreal it had been. How _frightening_ it had been that his own father had been in danger.

"Dad thought I'd be dishonoring the McGee name by not going into the Navy, you know," Tim said, not sure why he was confessing that to Tony who would likely store it up to spew out again later.

"No...I didn't know that. You said you told him what you were doing every day."

"I did," Tim said and sat down at his computer. "And we were as close as it was possible to be when I was younger, but when I told him what I wanted to do, what I was _going_ to do, he laughed at me and said it was a waste of time, a waste of my talents, and that it was expected that I'd be going into the Navy. Navy cops weren't good enough. I'd heard all that before, but it was the laughter that got to me. I told him that if I was such a disappointment I'd be sure not to embarrass him by talking to him anymore. ...and I didn't. I talked to my mom. I talked to Sarah. Never to Dad...until a few weeks ago. He was happy to talk to me, said he'd missed me. _Dad_ said he'd missed me...and that he'd been stupid to let the rift go on as long as it had."

Tim sighed and stared at the floor. Tony said nothing.

"I don't want to ruin that by letting him know that I just helped save his life at a time when he didn't even know he was in danger. He'd _really_ be embarrassed. I don't want that, not when we're just talking again."

Another long silence.

"Well...he won't hear it from me, Tim. If that's what you're worried about."

"I don't know what I'm worried about. I just don't want to lose my dad again...in any way."

"Okay. You all right?"

Tim smiled and nodded. "Yeah. I'm all right. Thanks, Tony."

"No problem...but if you have a hangover tomorrow, be ready for some deserved ribbing."

"I will."

"Good. See you tomorrow, McGee."

"Yeah."

The door behind him opened. Tim didn't turn. Not at first.

"Oh, and McGee?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't know your dad...but I'll bet he'd be proud...not embarrassed."

"You don't know my dad."

"Yeah...but I know you."

The door closed. Tim turned around and stared at the closed door. He sat there for about half an hour and then got up to go to bed. It wasn't even midnight yet, but he figured it was best to avoid giving his hangover any reason to build up strength...and give Tony more fodder for teasing tomorrow.

As he headed into the bedroom, his phone started to ring. He answered it without even looking at the display.

"Hello. This is McGee," he said and stifled a yawn.

"_Hi, Tim. ...I hear you were at the game today."_

"Dad..."

"_Just wanted to say thanks."_

The tone was a bit gruff, the words stilted...but he meant it. Tim could tell that much.

"It's...it's my job, Dad."

"_I know...and I'm glad you have it if you're keeping people from...danger. I mean it, son."_

"I know you do."

"_Good. That's all I wanted to say. Good night, son."_

"Wait...Dad?"

"_Yeah?"_

"I love you."

A long silence.

"_I...love you, Tim."_ There was the sound of the Admiral-McGee throat clearing. _"Good night."_

Tim smiled a little. "Good night, Dad."

The click in his ear ended the awkward conversation. Tim sat down on his bed and stared at his phone.

Then, he looked over toward his front door. He laughed to himself.

"Tony...I'm going to kill you," he said.

Then, he got ready for bed and went to sleep.

FINIS!


End file.
